


Kingpin

by omegastar



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Fan Story, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), i don't care about genetics, rating may change as story progresses, this is from a plot i wrote in like 2015 so its edgy alright
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-10-13 17:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17492330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omegastar/pseuds/omegastar
Summary: Newtkit is born weak alongside his sister. Pampered by one cat and scorned by another, he gains and he gains until RiverClan is forced to ask how far is too far.When zeal turns to bloodshed, and the first generation is gone, the question remains: is it better to love too much, or to not love at all?





	1. Prologue

Wisps of air escaped from the nostrils of a orange and black she-cat, and she watched with a steady gaze as the moon rose to its peak. The clearing was bustling with anxious Clanmates around her, murmuring, gossiping, and eventually, giving up. One by one, each cat turned in for the night, pushing down the blood curdling screams from the nursery as they neared the warrior’s den. A black and white tom, the last cat left, passed the she-cat and gently tapped her spine with his tail.

“We’re going to try and sleep, Mossystar,” he informed her quietly. “You should consider the same. It’s been a long day.”

Mossystar did not turn to face him. “Weaselbelly,” she greeted, voice strained and hoarse. Something hopeful glinted in her emerald eyes. “Any news on Creekheart?”

Weaselbelly shook his head. “Midgewing is doing his best,” he promised.

“I know.” Mossystar sighed and stared ahead. “But what if his best isn’t enough?”

Weaselbelly pondered an answer, but ultimately decided not to respond to her question. He dipped his head in farewell.

“Goodnight, Mossystar,” he murmured. Mossystar acknowledged him with a stiff nod back and waited until he was gone from the clearing.

“StarClan,” she breathed to the sky, eyes dancing to each cluster of stars past the horizon. “Rookwhisker. If you’re there,” she added modestly, “watch over Creekheart and her kits. _Your_ kits.”

Mossystar bowed her head. A few more moments passed, and Mossystar hadn’t even realized that RiverClan’s camp had fallen silent albeit a few crickets. A rustling came from the nursery, and she leapt to her paws to face the medicine cat.

Midgewing’s cinnamon fur and stoic expression caught in the moonlight as he sauntered towards the leader.

“Well?” Mossystar said after a moment, not waiting for Midgewing to reach her. Her heart skipped a beat.

Midgewing blinked. “There are two kits.”

“And? Are they all well?”

“For now, yes.” Midgewing stopped to lick his ruffled fur. Mossystar frowned.

“You’re being vague. You know I hate that.”

“Maybe it’s for the better that I am.”

“It wasn’t for the better when you misdiagnosed Rookwhisker.”

Midgewing clenched his jaw. “I couldn’t have done anything else for him, Mossystar. You know that. He was my brother.”

“And Creekheart is my sister,” Mossystar pointed out, glancing swiftly to the silent nursery. “These kits are my blood and yours. I deserve to know the truth.”

Midgewing followed her glance to the nursery. When he turned back, he lowered his voice. “The _truth_ is that I don’t know how much longer any of them will last,” he meowed gravely. “Creekheart’s sickness didn’t help with her pregnancy. She’s weaker than ever. The tom is weak, too. The she-kit wasn’t breathing when she was born. I had to revive her.”  
His tail flinked and he gazed off to the distance, deep in thought. “If they survive past two moons,” he added quietly, “they will be of about as much use as mice.”

Mossystar narrowed her eyes. “You are suggesting they retire.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then what did you mean to say? That they deserve to be euthanized? Or that they face the burden to train under _you_?” Mossystar whirled to face him, eyes ablaze. “I would hope they have a choice, at least. I will not let kittens go into the elder’s den.”

“You are not listening."

Midgewing took in a breath when Mossystar narrowed her eyes. 

"You’re biased, Mossystar, and you always have been.” Midgewing sat down, crossing his tail over his paws. “Family is always first for you. You would wipe the rest of us out if it meant your sister could come out of battle unscathed. All I am doing is informing you of their health - which is not ideal, at the moment - and you are acting like I want these kits dead. You have a Clan to run, outside your family.”

"RiverClan is my family,” she meowed, voice hardening. She too sat down, staring ahead as to not look at the medicine cat. “And it wouldn’t matter if those kits were Creekheart’s or a rogue’s. I will not tolerate them being tossed aside because of circumstances around their birth.”

“Not what I said,” Midgewing huffed, then cleared his throat. “Even if that was the case, it might not even matter. They likely won’t survive the night.”

Silence grew heavy between them.

“What happened to you, Midgewing?” Mossystar finally asked, quietly. She still stared blankly ahead. “You were compassionate, once.”

Midgewing did not reply for a long time.

“Then I was a fool.”

Mossystar finally turned her head to look at him with a twisted expression. “Rookwhisker’s death destroyed you,” she murmured. “You’re giving up on these kits because you couldn’t save their father. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? They are your kin.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Midgewing snapped, leaping to his paws. “I made a promise the day I bestowed myself with this role. Kin is nothing. Show no bias. I am not getting attached to three dying cats.”

Mossystar said nothing. Midgewing took it as a cue to collect himself, take a breath, and continue.

“You didn’t make the vow like I did, but it doesn’t give you a right to prioritize these kits like I know you will. I would never suggest kits be pushed to the side like this unless it was for a good reason.” Midgewing paused and took in a shuddering breath. "I've known you for a long time, Mossystar, and I know how you are going to treat these kits. It will be your downfall, and theirs, too."

Mossystar was silent for a long, drawn-out moment as she took in his words. 

"Isn't it better," she whispered after a moment, "too love too much than to not love at all? They are your _kin_ , Midgewing. For StarClan's sake." Midgewing grunted. 

“They’re my kin, but they’re your kin, too.” He sighed. “Whatever that makes us-”

"It makes us allies.” Mossystar rose to her paws. “More than that, it makes us family. _If_ these kits live and if…” she took in a shuddering breath, “... _if_ we lose Creekheart, the kits belong to no one other than the Clan. They need someone, Midgewing. They need us.”

“I will not father these kits. They need their Clan, and their Clan needs them.” Midgewing lashed his tail, dismissing her words. “That’s all. Your compassion makes you weak, you know. And you can't even understand it yet, is the tragic thing.”

Mossystar shook her head. “My compassion comes from a place that holds only malice in your heart,” she shot back. “If one day you decide that Rookwhisker’s death wasn’t your fault, and one day you decide that innocent cats deserve to live, _then_ you can call me weak.”

With that she stalked off towards her den, lashing her tail as she slipped away into the night.

Midgewing watched her go, and felt the wind pick up in his cinnamon fur. He shivered at the brisk night, and turned back towards the nursery. 

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, StarClan," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Even if Mossystar doesn't." 

 

* * *

 

 

**Allegiances:**

**Leader:** Mossystar: mostly black tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes, graying muzzle

**Deputy:** Weaselbelly: black and white tuxedo tom with yellow eyes

**Medicine cat** : Midgewing: cinnamon tom with yellow eyes 

**Warriors** :

Dovewhisker: white she-cat with long fur and yellow eyes

Ivyrain: golden tabby she-cat with green eyes

Cedarbranch: large brown tom with amber eyes   

Patchtalon: ginger tom with dark tabby markings, yellow eyes 

Flintshade: speckled silver tom with yellow eyes 

Apprentice:  _Pigeonpaw_

Ravensky: small black tom with amber eyes 

_Apprentice: Troutpaw_

Ashenlight: Sleek blueish-gray she-cat, green eyes 

_Apprentice: Curlpaw_

Bluepike: blue gray point tom, blue eyes  

Specklesnow: spotted yellow tabby she-cat, green eyes

Waspleap: seal point tom, blue eyes   

 

**Apprentices** :  
Curlpaw: light gray tabby she-cat with green eyes

Troutpaw: gray tom with green eyes

Pigeonpaw: gray tom with white feet, blue eyes  

 

**Queens:**  
Creekheart: dark blue she-cat with a white chin and blue eyes (mate to Rookwhisker, deceased) - Newtkit (black tom) and Violetkit (dark grey she-cat)

Wetcloud: ginger and white she-cat with yellow eyes- (mate to Patchtalon) Thrushkit (ginger and white tom) and Rosekit (ginger she-cat)

  
  


 


	2. Chapter One

Newtkit was not named by his mother.

Creekheart was weak beyond words when she gave birth, and had barely a glimpse of her kits before she was hauled back away to the medicine den. The Clan had gathered three days after the birth, as was important in the eyes of Mossystar, to determine the kits’ fate.

General consensus agreed on the following: Wedcloud would suckle the kits, Midgewing would ensure the combined three’s health, and the kits would be named Newtkit and Violetkit.

Violetkit was the smallest, and in that sense named after the the delicate yet beautiful flowers that dotted the riverbank and smiled up up passerbys. Creekheart had a known admiration for the flower, so the name felt almost necessary.

For the small black tom a majority of the Clan voted Rookkit after his late father. Only one cat had shut the idea down, one cat with a defiant stare at Mossystar and a lashing tail. So the Clan moved onto its second option: Newtfoot, father of Rookwhisker, who bore a striking resemblance to his son and grandson during his lifetime. That name was suitable enough for Midgewing, at least, and the Clan collectively sighed when he gave his sniff of approval to Newtkit.

For the first few days Midgewing refused to utter the kits’ names, instead referring to them as “Creekheart’s kits” to Wetcloud when doing his routine check. The kits didn’t spend much time with the nursing queen, much to Midgewing’s annoyance; they much preferred their own, dying mother. But with every day Creekheart grew weaker, the kits opened their eyes, began to tittle around, and eventually, spoke.

It was not a coincidence that Newtkit’s first words were to Midgewing.

He had clambered over to the medicine cat, hunched over Creekheart tirelessly, and stared up at him through his milky blue gaze.

He was mewing nonsense to get Midgewing(who routinely ignored him)’s attention, when a squeak turned into a forced-

“Midge!”

Midgewing froze over Creekheart. Both cats paused, both with a differing opinion of the situation.

“He spoke,” Creekheart purred from her spot on her side. She gazed at her kit through half-open eyes. Newtkit scrambled over to her, nub of a tail in the air and pressed his cheek against hers.

“Yeah, and if he does it again he’ll wake Violetkit,” Midgewing muttered, getting back to his work. Creekheart’s gaze traveled over to her younger kit, who slept with a feeble, quick rise and fall of her flank.

Newtkit, besides being on a thin frame and losing his breath faster than a normal kit, surprised the Clan by being otherwise healthy. Violetkit was the opposite. Though they were less frequent with age, Violetkit would often have episodes of faint breathing and wobbled walking until she would eventually collapse. Though Midgewing put on a hard shell, he was deeply concerned with Violetkit’s longevity due to his frustration with the fact that he had no idea what was happening.

(“It’s something on her inside,” he had explained to Mossystar, as Newtkit would overhear later. “Invisible, almost. I don’t know how to treat it.”

“We’ll just have to hope,” the ever-optimistic Mossystar had replied, “and pray to StarClan for her wellbeing.”)

But defying the odds, Violetkit lived, and so did Newtkit.

When they reached four moons of age the question of apprenticeship came up more frequently, but it was apparent at that point that they were on track to become apprentices just as soon as Wetcloud’s kits were.

“Newtkit!”

Newtkit turned from his spot by the nursery entrance as someone called his name. Thrushkit. Speak of StarClan.

The ginger and white tom bounced up to his friend and playfully batted his paw over Newtkit’s head, causing the black tom to hook his paws onto Thrushkit’s pelt and bowl him over, locking the two of them in a tussle. Thrushkit landed on top, grinning triumphantly at his win.

“That move never gets old!” He hooted to Newtkit, who shoved him off with a grunt and a gritted smile.

“Just wait til I get training,” Newtkit promised, shoving his friend lightly as he climbed to his paws and shook out his pelt. “I’ll get you back.”

“Thrushkit!” Wedcloud’s mew came from the nursery, where she observed them. Only her almond yellow eyes shone through the darkness of the bracken den, where Rosekit was huddled close to her. “Don’t play harsh with Newtkit, remember?”

“Sorry!” Thrushkit dipped his head and called back. Newtkit rolled his eyes and padded away from Wetcloud.

“I’m not fragile, you know,” he informed Thrushkit. “I’m four moons old, now. And Midgewing said I could stop seeing him every day for check ups.”

Thrushkit shrugged and walked with him across camp. “She probably meant that just to be safe. And for Violetkit and Creekheart,” he added.

“Ugh. I feel bad for them. Always hanging out with Midgewing,” Newtkit meowed, sticking out his tongue to emphasize his disgust. “I’m glad I don’t have to any more.”

“He’s probably overworked with three cats all the time,” Thrushkit pointed out as they neared the leader’s den.

“Well he doesn't have to be so bratty about it. Any cat would think he was forced to take care of us!”

“He needs an apprentice, is all. Someone to help him out.”

Newtkit stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes. “Can you stop defending him while I’m ranting?” Thrushkit chuckled, continuing to walk.

“I’m right, though.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Newtkit began to pad beside Thrushkit again. “At least you and Rosekit don’t baby me.”

”Hey, who else do I have to practice moves on?” Thrushkit’s golden eyes rounded. “And don’t say Troutpaw. He’s huge and he scares me.”

Newtkit giggled as they neared the leader’s den. Thrushkit greeted his father, Patchtalon, who was in a seemingly deep conversation with the deputy Weaselbelly. Newtkit shied away from their glare. He ducked into the leader’s den hastily.

“Mossystar?” He called, dipping under the moss that covered a large, hollowed log that Mossystar called home. Thrushkit followed more hesitantly. “You in there?”

The regal black and orange cat was mid-stretch, back arched and tongue curled in a yawn.

“Crack of dawn again, kits,” she meowed, smacking her jaws together and blinking the sleep from her eyes. When she regained her posture, however, her gaze fell lovingly onto her nephew. “How are Creekheart and Violetkit?”

Newtkit shuffled his paws. “Same as they ever are,” he muttered.

“Midgewing probably knows all the details,” Thrushkit added with a nod. Mossystar snorted.

“He probably also- no, not in front of the kits,” she restrained herself in a mutter. She padded towards the den entrance, where the kits skipped at her heels cheerfully. She nodded at Weaselbelly as she passed him. “Are the dawn patrols out?”

He gave her a swift nod. “In a moment. I’m sorting them right now.”

“Excellent. Good morning, Patchtalon.”

Patchtalon nodded groggily back.

Weaselbelly’s voice pierced across camp as they were walking away.

“Listen up, patrols! Cedarbranch is leading and taking with him Ashenlight, Ivyrain-"

Newtkit tuned him out and leaned over to Thrushkit as the patrols gathered and huddled near the camp exit.

“I can’t wait until we’re apprentices!” He murmured excitedly, maturely-orange eyes glimmering.

“Me neither,” Thrushkit said, but lacking Newtkit’s extreme positivity. “Being a kit is boring.”

”In time,” Mossystar mused, overhearing the kits’ conversation from her spot beside him. Her eyes glimmered with mischief. “Perhaps if you are good enough, I’ll apprentice you early.”

The kits squeaked in excitement, and the leader chuckled.

“Come on,” she meowed, “let’s check on Creekheart.”

Thrushkit and Newtkit followed her into the medicine den, where the leader ducked into the cool, mossy den unannounced.

“Mossystar,” Midgewing greeted with a curt dip of his head. His eyes fell to Thrushkit and Newkit, and although he said nothing, the golden orbs narrowed. “Do you need something? You’re crowding the den.”

“I am visiting my sister,” Mossystar informed him, leaning down to touch her nose to Creekheart’s. As if on cue, Creekheart pushed herself to a sitting position, with great endeavor. Mossystar chirped her approval.

“You look well,” she commented. Creekheart purred.

“Thank you,” she meowed, blinking slowly. She still looked sickly: gangly limbs and a stuck-out ribcage, but her eyes shone at her sister. “Newtkit is doing much better, too.”

Mossystar purred. “So I’ve heard.”

“They’ll be apprenticed soon?” Creekheart asked, flicking her ear to Violetkit, who was asleep in the corner. Midgewing’s head shot up at Mossystar as she prepared to answer the question.

“Of course,” Mossystar replied, ignoring the medicine cat’s glare shooting daggers at the side of her head. “They’re getting stronger every day. I’m as proud as if they were my own, Creekheart.”

Creekheart smiled at her sister as Newtkit rushed her, pushing his head under her chin.

“I’m going to be the best apprentice ever!” he declared, and his mother laughed.

“Mossystar,” Midgewing growled through clenched teeth. He was shooting sidelong glances at the entrance to the den. “A word?”

Mossystar’s expression grew sharp and somber. She followed him out of the den wordlessly.

“Wanna go find Rosekit and play a game?” Thrushkit asked, turning to Newtkit. The black tom nodded eagerly.

“Sure, but can we include Violetkit, too?” he asked. Glancing up at Creekheart, he rounded his eyes. “Creekheart? Is she okay to play with?”

“She should be alright,” Creekheart meowed, licking her rumpled chest fur. “You’ll have to wake her, though.”

Newtkit had to admit, Creekheart was getting better every day. When he was born she couldn’t even speak enough to name them, and now she was sitting up and grooming herself.

Newtkit padded over to a corner tentatively, watching the gray flank rise and fall.

“Violetkit,” he whispered, prodding her with a paw. “Do you want to come play? Thrushkit and Rosekit-”

“What?” Violetkit blinked, staring up into Newtkit’s face with her round blue eyes. “Oh. Sure. Just give me a second-”

She stretched, front legs shaking slightly as she did so. Violetkit had struggled immensely, but now that she was able to totter around in a sort of run, Newtkit had been overjoyed and immediately included her in everything he could. He padded over to the entrance, where Thrushkit was asking Creekheart about her medication for whatever reason, and waited for Violetkit. However he realized upon sitting by the base of the boulder that stood near the front, he could hear Mossystar and Midgewing’s conversation.

“You can’t be serious, Mossystar,” Midgewing was saying in a low hiss. “Just because they can walk doesn’t mean they can run - much less swim or fight!”

“They’ve improved this much.” Mossystar sniffed, and with a start Newtkit realized they were talking about him and his sister. “They’ll be there in two moons.”

“Two moons is not a long time,” Midgewing warned her. His whisper was so low that Newtkit strained to hear. “And remember: I don’t know what’s wrong with any of them. We are going off of pure luck. I'm doing what I can, but any of them could drop at any moment.”

“But they haven’t.”

Midgewing hissed.

“Blind optimism!” he snapped. He checked his tone, and continued: “You cannot put these kits or Creekheart at the front of a patrol or battle line just because they are your family. They are still weak, Mossystar. Even Newtkit - I don’t think he’ll ever be able to swim with his heart like that. And he’s the strongest of the bunch.”

“You need to stop thinking like that. We’ve hoped and we’ve prayed them this far. They’re so close, Midgewing.”

Midgewing spat on the dirt, and his tone was accusatory. “You’re promising them apprenticeship that even _you_ don’t know will happen!”

“And _you’re_ giving up.”

A pause.

“I’m doing everything I can.”

As he spoke, for the first time in four moons, Midgewing’s voice broke. He took in a shaking breath and tried to collect himself. “Mossystar, you’re placing so much trust in StarClan that you forget you have a trained medicine cat who is doing the most he can.”

“A medicine cat who is unwilling to feel anything but indifference.” Mossystar’s tone was growing distant, as if she was walking away. Her dismissal left a thick silence in the air, and Midgewing merely took in a breath before entering the medicine den again.

Newtkit froze in place as Midgewing arrived. The medicine cat paused and stared at Newtkit, and opened his mouth to confront him for eavesdropping when another voice cut him off.

“Midgewing!” Thurshkit called. Violetkit was at his side now, blinking and swaying on her paws as she always did. Thrushkit held out a pawful of black seeds. “These are poppy seeds, right?”

“Why, yes.” Midgewing blinked in surprise at Thrushkit’s eagerness.

“Cause I found them under Violetkit’s nest. I think they might have rolled under there on accident,” the ginger and white tom informed him. Midgewing stared at Thrushkit.

“Oh. Well, thank you,” he meowed. “Actually, I thought we were almost out.”

Thrushkit beamed. Newtkit, meanwhile, rolled his eyes.

“Come on, suck up,” he meowed, pushing Thrushkit towards the entrance with his nose. Violetkit followed them with an awkward distance. “Let’s go find Rosekit.”

“I am not a suck up!”

“Are too!”

Midgewing watched them go, whiskers twitching, and was grateful for the silence. Creekheart was the only other cat remaining, and he heard her shuffle behind him.

“Maybe you should consider an apprentice,” she meowed quietly, after a moment of silent reflection. Midgewing did not turn to face her.

“I was hoping Violetkit would show an interest.”

Creekheart shook her head. “She’s never once brought up the topic. She’s a warrior at heart, Midgewing. I think you know who would rather be in this den.”

Midgewing sighed, and his shoulders fell when he did. “I know. I just don’t want her to die out there. You understand, don’t you?”

To his surprise, Creekheart nodded. “You don’t want to lose someone else like you lost Rookwhisker,” she answered, voice heavy in sorrow for her mate, “especially not his daughter. I don’t want to lose her either,” she admitted.

Midgewing said nothing. Creekheart pushed herself to four paws and padded up to him, sitting down next to him and quietly observing the four kits tumbling in the clearing.

“But it is _her_ life, Midgewing. If this is the path she wants to follow, then you and I are not ones to stand in front of it,” she meowed. “Who are we but hindrances of destiny? That is not our choice to make.” She looked at him with a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t want her to lose her whole life, too.”

Midgewing said nothing. He merely watched the kits through narrowed eyes, and pondered her words. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a lot of plot just mainly introducing newtkit as the narrator, and more with his relationships/midgewing!


	3. Chapter 3

**Additional Allegiances:**

 

**ThunderClan:**

**Leader:** Birchstar: light brown tom with yellow eyes

**Deputy:** Cleargaze: white tom with very, very pale yellow eyes

**Medicine cat:** Cypresstail: very old brown tom with green eyes

_ Apprentice: Dandelionfur: thick-furred golden she-cat  _

 

**WindClan:**

**Leader:** Rabbitstar: cream and gray tom with a stumpy gray tail and golden eyes 

**Deputy:** Heatherpool: lean gray she-cat with yellow eyes 

**Medicine cat:** Gorseberry: mackerel brown tabby she-cat with white markings and blue eyes 

 

**ShadowClan** : Hollystar: smoked gray she-cat with a prickly pelt and piercing yellow eyes 

**Deputy:** Grousepelt: speckled light brown tom with a white belly and blue eyes 

**Medicine cat:** Fawndapple: gray she-cat with darker spots 

 

* * *

  
  


Five and a half moons flew by, and before Newtkit had the chance to take it in it seemed the whole camp was buzzing with excitement about the new apprentices. Perhaps it was just the now-crowded nursery. Either way, the anticipation was nearly too much. The kits were frequently kicked out of the nursery den, for reasons regarding their size and Wetcloud’s sanity, and frolicked amidst the center of camp promptly afterwards. The Clan, Newtkit assumed, would be grateful for their apprenticeship simply due to the kits finally being contained.

On this particular day, the kits sat outside the nursery gossiping and watching the warriors come and go to their daily activities. Newtkit enviously watched Curlpaw follow her mentor, Ashenlight, into camp with her brothers not far behind.

“Who do you want to be your mentor?” He asked, nudging Violetkit. His sister shrugged.

She had gotten immensely better in the past two moons with both learning to control her illness and deal with the side effects. The same could not be said for Creekheart. She was declining again, but Newtkit was almost used to her fluctuating health. He had never known different, after all.

“Someone nice, I hope,” she said, eyes rounding. Her gaze fell on a beautiful golden she-cat who was sharing tongues with Dovewhisker in the center of the clearing. “Like Ivyrain. She’s so patient. Maybe Cedarbranch, too.”

“Cedarbranch is boring,” Newtkit pointed out. He made an effort to spot the large brown tom, but failed to pick him out from the crowd.

“I want Ashenlight!” Rosekit chimed in. “I know she’s already training Curlpaw, but she’s so cool. And maybe Flintshade - oh, all the good cats already have apprentices!”

Violetkit and Newtkit nodded their agreement. Rosekit turned to her brother, who hadn’t spoken.

“What about you?” She asked. “Who do you want as your mentor?”

“What? Me?” Thrushkit looked as if he had been snapped out of a daydream. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe Weaselbelly - or something.”

Rosekit’s eyes rounded.

“The deputy?”

“No, the rogue.” Thrushkit rolled his eyes. “Yes, the deputy. What’s the issue?”

“Rosekit doesn't think you’re worthy,” Newtkit teased. Thrushkit stuck out his tongue at him.

“Weaselbelly is kind of rude,” Violetkit huffed. “I know I wouldn’t want him.”

“Yeah, who was his poor apprentice that got him to deputy position?” Rosekit scoffed. “Probably bored them to death before they became a warrior.”

“Do you think that can really happen?” Thrushkit mused.

“What?”

“Being bored to death.”

“Like actual death? Dying?”

“Yeah, can you die from being bored?”

“I think it’s just a saying.”

The four kits decided on that, and fell to silence as they watched warriors again.

“I don’t care who mentors me,” Violetkit revealed in a quiet and thoughtful tone, “just so long as they can tolerate my heart affecting the rest of me.”

The other three nodded their understanding.

“Me too,” Newtkit added quickly. “Did you hear what Midgewing said that one time? He said we probably wouldn’t even be able to swim.”

Rosekit tipped her head to the side. “You did okay when Wetcloud took us out of camp to that stream a moon ago.”

Violetkit shook her head. “That was hardly a puddle. He means in the river.”

Rosekit fluffed out her coat in defense of her friend. “I think you’ll be great.”

Violetkit smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

“May all cats who can swim gather in the center of camp for a Clan meeting!”

Newtkit and Rosekit looked at each other, thrilled as Mossystar’s voice rang across camp.

“Is that for us?” Thrushkit meowed, flushing in the face entirely.

“I hope so!” Rosekit exclaimed with contrasting enthusiasm.

“It’s not your apprentice ceremony.” The four heads spun around to an older voice as a cat emerged from somewhere behind them to gather with the rest of the Clan.

“How do you know that, Weaselbelly?” Rosekit challenged. Newtkit’s heart beat faster when he realized the deputy probably heard a large portion of their conversation.

“You’re not six moons old yet.”

When Rosekit looked dejected, Newtkit and Violetkit leapt up.

“Ooh, maybe it’s ours!” Newtkit suggested, and Violetkit nodded eagerly.

Weaselbelly looked at them curiously. “No, the apprentices are becoming warriors.” He paused in thought. “Have you two ever considered… other roles in the Clan?”

“What do you mean?” Violetkit asked. Something flashed in her eyes, and Newtkit wondered if she was daring him to answer. Weaselbelly looked surprised.

“I’m only suggesting you keep your options open.”

“Why didn’t you ask Thrushkit or Rosekit that?”

Weaselbelly blinked. “It was a suggestion,” he said in a low and even tone. “And one I _suggest_ you take in. StarClan forbid anything happens to you - Mossystar would have a fit.”

“At least Mossystar lets us do what we want!” Newtkit hollered after him as the deputy padded towards the center of the clearing. Weaselbelly paused mid-stride, then laughed a little.

“Yeah, she gives in a lot.” He turned his head towards them and stared at Violetkit and Newkit with genuine compassion. “I just want you two to stay as safe as you can.”

“No, you don’t want us holding back the Clan,” Newtkit muttered under his breath once the deputy was gone. His voice was slicked with venom. “Midgewing doesn’t want us, either.”

“Or half the Clan,” Violetkit sighed.

“ _I_ want you here,” Rosekit defended, brushing up against her friend comfortingly.

“Me too!” Thrushkit chimed in with a knowing gleam in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to be a medicine cat if you don’t wanna be.”

“Thanks,” Violetkit murmured dejectedly.

Newtkit sighed. “Why do only kits understand and not the older cats?” He pondered aloud, sitting down. Rosekit shrugged. To his surprise, they had missed most of the ceremony talking and Mossystar hadn’t even noticed. Curlpaw - whatever her new name was - was stepping back from the leader, beaming.

“Pigeonwing! Troutfang! Curlwhisker!”

Newtkit joined the chant with the other kits in respect as the three new warriors wove through the crowd. They were greeting their parents with wide smiles and purring loudly as the Clan congratulated them.

“I hope we can have that,” Violetkit sighed, watching the new warriors with a soft smile. Newtkit looked at her.

“We will,” he promised.

 

Night fell onto RiverClan after another long day. Newtkit found himself bored often, wandering around and telling warriors the same thing every day. He couldn’t bear to be anything other than a warrior, and he knew Violetkit felt the same.

He retired into the nursery when the sun set, and stopped and sighed upon the sight of his empty nest. Violetkit was beside it in her own.

Creekheart’s nest had never been in the nursery; it was in Midgewing’s den until he decided she was well enough to move in. Newtkit had been out of Midgewing's den as soon as possible, and recently Violetkit had ranked up to the nursery as well. Despite how much he missed his mother, Newtkit reasoned that having Violetkit was better than sleeping alone. 

Newtkit gave a swift gander to Wetcloud, who, despite the size of her kits, was still curled up with them fast asleep on the other side of the den. Newtkit looked back at his sister, looking even smaller than usual curled up alone, and padded towards her.

As he sat down on his own nest and glanced up at the ceiling, he allowed the soothing river sounds and shells woven into the ceiling of the den calm him. Weaselbelly’s words from earlier sunk in again, and though it wasn’t Newkit’s first scornful interaction with the deputy, it still stung.

“Violetkit?”

“Hmm?”

Newtkit hesitated as he chose his words. “Why doesn’t anyone think we can make it?”

Violetkit sighed. The river filled their silence.

“I don’t want to say I don’t know. Because I do.” Violetkit spoke softly, as if the words were stinging her, too. “We’re sick, Newtkit. I don’t think they have any ill will by being doubtful.” She paused, deep in thought before shaking her head. "It doesn't matter, anyway." 

“What’s that mean?”

“You said it yourself earlier.” Violetkit’s head rose, and the wise blue eyes stared at Newtkit. “We will become warriors. Who’s really gonna tell us no, Newtkit?”

“Midgewing.”

“Hell with Midgewing!” Her tone chilled Newtkit to the bone, icy with shock. “He’s the only one pinning for us to be anything less than we’re supposed to be. And everyone else is just going to sit back and hope we fail. They won’t do anything about us.”

Newtkit nodded, fueled by her tone. “They’ll just sit back and wait for us to fail. And we won’t.”

Violetkit shook her head. “Right. Even if we do… Newtkit, even if my heart kills me, I’ll know that I died aiming for the goal I was meant to reach for. I’m not going to be what someone else wants me to be - _I’m_ going to be what I decide I want to be.”

She ended with shortness of breath, and settled her head down with a frustrated groan. Newtkit watched her for a long moment as she forced her breathing to slow.

“We’re warriors, Violetkit.” He whispered. _We're destined to be._ His sister smiled weakly, but the moon that crept into the den illluminated it across her whole face.

He was floored by her speech.

Violetkit was physically weak, but she was the wisest kit perhaps in all the Clans. Newtkit was revolted that cats suggest she do something she didn’t want to; Violetkit deserved the world!

But as she tucked her nose back under her tail, she once again became a small and fragile violet, a flower meant for treading on. In that moment Newtkit became aware of his own heartbeat, over the sound of the river.

_Bump._

_Bump bump bump._

_Bump._

He huffed in annoyance at its fluctuation and fluffed his nest out, settling down with his back touching Violetkit’s.

 _We’ll get there_ , he silently vowed. _Even if it takes getting my stupid heart under control, we are going to make it._

He raised his feeble head to glance at the gray one, the wise one, the one who deserved so much more than what she was given.

_We are going to make it because you believed we could._

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

_ Bump.  _

_ Bump bump bump.  _

_ Bump.  _

Newkit’s heart was pounding again, but this time, it was in joy. 

His stood with Violetkit on one side of him and Thrushkit on the other, and Rosekit beside her brother. The four kits were beaming up at Mossystar, who gazed down at them with motherly pride. The Clan was gathering around, murmuring. Wetcloud was close by her mate, Patchtalon, while Creekheart kept post alone by the medicine cat’s den. 

“Thrushkit, Rosekit, Newtkit, and Violetkit,” the leader began with her proud gaze unwavering from the kits. The Clan didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm, but no one objected. “You have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed.” The four squirmed in anticipation. 

“Rosekit,” Mossystar purred, “Please step forward.”

Rosekit gave her brother a thrilled glance before stepping forward. 

“Rosekit,” Mossystar announced in a voice that swept through the clearing and past the reeds. “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Rosepaw. Your mentor will be Waspleap. I have faith he will pass on his knowledge to you.”

The crowd parted to reveal an excited but not surprised young tom, who eagerly touched his nose to Rosepaw when he reached her. 

“Thrushkit,” Mossystar moved on as Rosepaw and her new mentor took post to the side, “from this day on, you will be known as Thrushpaw. Your mentor will be Specklesnow.”

Murmuring in the crowd grew louder as an equally confused Specklesnow emerged from the throng, but gave Thrushpaw a reassuring smile as she touched her nose to his. Thrushpaw shrunk back, looking mortified. 

Newtkit swung his head around to see the Clan. Wetcloud and Patchtalon were muttering to each other, and Creekheart was gazing at Thrushpaw, knowingly and sadly. She looked at Midgewing, but he only shook his head and turned back into his den, tail lashing. 

Mossystar’s eyes narrowed as she finally caught wind of the Clan’s confusion, but she moved on. Her posture brightened upon the image of her niece and newphew. 

“And finally,” she meowed, voice strong again, “Newtkit, Violetkit. I am so proud of you both. Newtkit, from this moment on, you will be known as Newtpaw. Your mentor will be Weaselbelly.”

Newtpaw’s heart dropped. His eyes met yellow ones as the deputy approached him, expressionless. More muttering from the crowd. 

“The deputy!” Someone said in a low voice. “When there are three young warriors?”

Newtpaw ignored them and pushed down a feeling of dread as Weaselbelly pulled back his head and sat down next to him in silence. Mossystar continued. 

“Violetkit, from this moment on you will be known as Violetpaw,” she said, and Violetpaw straightened her posture. “Your mentor will be Bluepike.”

Once again the crowd parted for a blue-gray tom to emerge and touch his nose to Violetpaw’s in greeting. 

“I have faith your mentors will pass on the knowledge they learned from their own. Waspleap, Specklesnow, Weaselbelly, Bluepike.” She addressed the warriors, who turned to face her. “You are ready to take on these apprentices. You have shown yourselves to be dedicated and loyal to RiverClan, and I expect you to pass on all you know to these young cats.”

The mentors murmured their consent, and Mossystar nodded sharply. 

“Very well then,” she said with a grin. “Be on your way! Meeting dismissed!”

Newtpaw scampered over to Creekheart with Violetpaw hot on his heels. Their mother was waiting for them, on her belly - her health was declining again, and her cheekbones were visible beneath her dull fur now, but her blue eyes shone for her kits. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she murmured, touching her cold nose to each of theirs. 

“Thanks!” Violetpaw gushed. “I’m so glad I got Bluepike. He seems like a good choice.” Creekheart nodded her assent. 

“Yes, a wise tom,” she agreed. Her voice slurred slightly. “Very patient. I think you two will get along well.”

When Newtpaw pouted, she gave him a pitiful expression. 

“I know Weaselbelly well,” she told him, “and he’s not the grouch you think he is. He just needs time.”

“He thinks Violetpaw and I are a waste.”

Creekheart shook her head. “I think you’re misunderstanding where he comes from.” She broke off in horrible coughing, and Newtpaw stepped back with a worried glance at Violetpaw. “You’ll make it work with him, I promise. Just give him time to learn what a beautiful soul you are.” 

More coughing. Newtpaw fell to silence. 

“I’m glad you were able to see us,” Violetpaw murmured, touching her nose to Creekheart’s ear. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Creekheart replied in a sigh. “I’m glad too. I’m so proud of you two.” As she spoke and as Newtpaw’s stomach twisted, Midgewing exited his den. 

“I need to check up on your mother,” he informed the apprentices with apathy. They stepped back respectfully just as Weaselbelly and Bluepike approached, with Thrushpaw, Rosepaw, and their respective mentors trodding along behind. 

“Newtpaw! Violetpaw,” the deputy greeted, expression lacking the enthusiasm in his voice. “Specklesnow and Waspleap are taking their apprentices out for the the first time, and I suggest we all tag along.”

Violetpaw and Newtpaw looked at each other with wide smiles. 

“Not so fast.”

Newtpaw groaned as Midgewing appeared behind him. The medicine cat pushed himself between the apprentices and mentors and stared at Weaselbelly. 

“I need to talk to these two for a moment.”

Weaselbelly shrugged. “Sure.”

Midgewing narrowed his eyes when the deputy didn’t budge. “Alone.”

“They’re all yours,” Weaselbelly gave in, exchanging a glance with Bluepike. Turning back to Specklesnow and Waspleap, he added, “you all go ahead. We’ll be right behind you.”

Midgewing was busy ushering Newtpaw and Violetpaw in his den. 

“What gives?” Newtpaw huffed when they were finally alone. “You still gonna convince us to be elders?”

“I have never said I wanted you to be elders.”

“Well you act like it. Guess what, me and Violetpaw are gonna swim today! And nobody’s gonna—”

“Your mother is dying.”

It was so sudden, so apathetic, that Newtpaw merely stopped mid-sentence and lost his train of thought entirely. His mouth dried as Midgewing’s words sunk in. 

“What?”

Violetpaw shoved in front of him. “Is this supposed to be news to us?” She said in a low voice, ear turning to make sure their mother hadn’t entered uninvited. “I mean, Midgewing, that’s what you’ve been telling us since we were born.”

The medicine cat sighed. 

“Look, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, and I know you two certainly don’t want me to tell you, either.” He avoided their stares and instead became intensely interested in his paws. “I’m sure you two are aware that Creekheart has become much worse in these past weeks. In fact, I’m surprised she made it to your ceremonies today. You all should realize how lucky you are.” When he noticed his tone grow heavy, he shook out his coat and fixed his yellow glare back on the kits. 

“We know,” Violetpaw murmured. 

“Good.” The old Midgewing was back as he straightened his spine. “I just wanted you all to be expecting something soon. We wouldn’t want anything to happen out of the blue without you knowing. Just-” 

_ Take care of yourselves.  _

Newtpaw could almost hear the words catch in Midgewing’s throat. 

But the thought was only left out in the open. It was odd to put those words out into the open, not to Rookwhisker’s kits. Not to Mossystar’s. 

“-Be aware,” he settled on. Then he flicked his tail dismissively. “Now,” he said quietly, averting his gaze to the exit, “get out of my den.” 

Violetpaw and Newtpaw exited, and their mentors were waiting patiently 

“What did Midgewing want?” Weaselbelly asked. Newtpaw’s pelt prickled.  _ It’s none of your business!  _

But Violetpaw’s quick thinking beat him. 

“He just wanted to make sure I was caught up on my medication,” she lied, “and he was telling Newtpaw to look out for me in case anything happens.”

“He seemed awful serious about it,” Weaselbelly muttered with a glance at Bluepike. Newtpaw snorted. 

“Yeah, Midgewing’s weird like that.”

That got a chuckle out of Bluepike. 

Newtpaw and Violetpaw followed their mentors not far from camp to reach the river, where the other four were waiting patiently on the bank. 

“So what are we doing first?” Rosepaw asked eagerly, flexing her claws out in anticipation as the others approached. 

“We’re following RiverClan tradition,” Specklesnow announced to everyone. “First day of training means first day of swimming!”

Rosepaw leapt up with a triumphant cheer, and Newtpaw felt his face flush as he recalled Midgewing muttering to Mossystar time and time again that he and Violetpaw would never be able to swim, words that the Clan had all silently agreed with. He glared at Weaselbelly, who was ignoring him. 

_ I’ll show you. _

The cats approached a shallower entrance to the river, where water lapped up on the riverbed and licked Newtpaw’s toes. The chill reached him, but his adrenaline kept him from apprehension. 

“We’re gonna take this nice and slow,” Bluepike announced, splashing into the water until it reached his belly. “This little nook right here is very shallow and not so steep, so you can walk in pretty easily.” 

“The water’s chilly, but you get used to it fast!” Waspleap promised, passing Thrushpaw and wading past Bluepike. “The hardest parts are just the first steps.”

”Follow us in,” Specklesnow said to the apprentices, flicking her tail as she and Weaselbelly followed Bluepike and Waspleap out in the river. “You might feel the urge to step on big, smooth rocks – but watch for loose or slippery ones! You’ll feel them right away, but you must act on them and step on another rock quickly before you fall in. The current might take you if you don’t know how to swim.”

Rosepaw went first. She splashed out boldly, but due to not being nearly as tall as her mentor she had to stop a few feet back. 

“Come on!” She called over her shoulder. “It’s not that bad once you get in.”

Thrushpaw exchanged a glance with Newtpaw, but before they could decide who was braver, Violetpaw shoved between them and followed Rosepaw out. Newtpaw didn’t realize how long her legs were until she passed Rosepaw easily, grinning cheekily as she did. Rosepaw stuck out her tongue. 

“Together?” Thrushpaw asked, eyes rounding at Newtpaw. Newtpaw chuckled away his nerves as Midgewing’s warnings rang in his ears. 

“Sure thing.”

Newtpaw took a step in, sucking in his breath, before taking a couple more flanking his friend. They approached Rosepaw, and once Newtpaw felt water lap at his belly he exhaled. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Thrushpaw breathed, mainly to himself. 

“Ok, now that you’re used to the water, we’re going to take a few steps back and we want you to swim to us,” Weaselbelly explained. “Swimming comes naturally to cats, believe it or not. Just keep your head above water and kick with your legs. Don’t worry about the depth or going underwater for now. It won’t be deep. Just paddle straight towards us.”

The apprentices waited for their mentors to cross a stretch of water until they reached another shallow spot only a few feet ahead. 

“I’ll go,” Rosepaw volunteered again, ears twitching with nervousness. Waspleap nodded, and the ginger apprentice took in a breath before pushing herself forward and taking off towards her mentor. There was a moment where she bobbled and her chin grazed the water’s surfaced, but she managed to maintain her balance and swam to a stop beside Waspleap. 

“I did it!” She chirped. 

“Newtpaw?” Weaselbelly asked. “Would you like to go next?”

“Um, sure.” Newtpaw glanced at Thrushpaw again, who gave him a comforting murmur. He took a few steps forward before mustering the courage to push himself off the final rock before the deeper water.

Then he felt the large rock below his paw slide, and in a panic he stumbled. The rock rolled over just as a wave of the current swept by, and Newtpaw was flung underwater. 

He heard his sister and friends cry out as water filled his ears and nose, and then his mouth as he tried to scream back. The current held him underwater, bowling him downstream.

He felt someone’s fur against his own before his head hit something sharply, and he slipped out of consciousness. 

 

* * *

Newtpaw blinked awake, still groggy with a confusing blockage in his ears. He could hazily make out parts of a sliver of light, and then as shapes became more recognizable they became part of a familiar den. But for some reason, he was entirely alone.

“Midgewing?” He called out, and his voice cracked as he spoke. He cleared his throat, but before he could call again, two cats entered the den. The concerned face of Mossystar and the blank one of Midgewing stared at him, not speaking for a long moment. Midgewing looked to the leader, and it was clear he didn’t want to start the conversation. 

“What happened?” Newtpaw asked, looking from his aunt to the medicine cat. “Did I drown?”

Midgewing sighed. “No. You’re still alive. You just got knocked under the current and hit your head.”

”Which happens a lot with new apprentices,” Mossystar added quickly, but something about her typical optimism was strained.

“You have a minor concussion,” Midgewing said. “You’ll be back to training in no time.”

“How did I–“

“Weaselbelly saved you,” Mossystar answered, already knowing his question. “He jumped in before you could get carried too far and he took you back to camp. Thank him when you get the chance.”

That was it. The optimism was there, but there was no follow up smile. Only silence. 

Newtpaw looked at the both of them suspiciously. “What else happened?”

“You were out for most of the day,” Midgewing explained. For once, Newtpaw noticed that the light leaking in the den had a golden afternoon glow to it. He craned his neck to look farther, but Midgewing stepped in front of the entrance to block his view. 

“While you were out… Creekheart passed away,” Mossystar said, so quietly that Newtpaw hadn’t heard her the first time. His heart skipped a beat. 

“What?”

”Your mother died,” Mossystar repeated. She looked up at him, and her own eyes were glassy. “I’m sorry, Newtpaw. Midgewing did everything he could.”

Newtpaw didn’t register her words. He stared at her chest, mouth agape, eyes wide. 

“There’s… no. She’s not. You’re lying,” he insisted. 

“I wish I was,” Midgewing sighed. For once, his words sounded genuinely pained. Newtpaw shook his head. 

“No. She always gets better. She has to.” His voice cracked again. Midgewing’s shoulder’s slumped, and he stepped aside to reveal cats gathered in the clearing, heads bowed and surrounding a limp body sprawled out for vigil. 

“I’m sorry,” Mossystar whispered. 

Newtpaw ignored her. He shoved past the two of them and made a beeline towards his mother, who lay with lavender tucked in her fur and her eyes closed. By her head was Violetpaw, who lay beside her, hunched over miserbaly. When she made eye contact with her brother, the crowd parted for the siblings to reunite. 

“Newtpaw,” Violetpaw whispered, pushing her nose in his shoulder. “Thank StarClan I didn’t lose you too.”

Newtpaw was so numb that the realization of his own potential mortality came as a surprise to him. 

“How long has it been?” He whispered bitterly, glancing at Creekheart. 

“A few hours. After you hit your head we got called back to camp. I only spoke for her for a few moments before…” Violetpaw trailed off. 

“At least you got the chance to,” Newtpaw said, feeling something gnaw at his heart. “What did she say?”

Violetpaw shook her head. “She was gone, Newtpaw. She wasn’t herself. All you missed was watching her leave her body.”

“I missed saying goodbye,” he whispered, staring down at Creekheart’s body and feeling hot tears bubble at his eyes. For once he felt all eyes on him and Violetpaw, the grieving children, and the overwhelming puty was almost too much.

“...I’m sorry...”

“...lost a father and a mother…”

“...orphaned at such a young age…”

“...she’ll be missed…”

Newtpaw heaved for breath and looked at Violetpaw

“I missed saying goodbye because I–“ he raised his head up and averted his gaze from his mother. “I have to go,” he said suddenly. Violetpaw raised her head too to look at him.

“Where?” She asked. Newtpaw shook his head and turned away, breaking into a sprint so she didn’t see him cry. He shoved past Mossystar, who was padding up behind him.

“Newtpaw!” She called, but he ignored her, tearing past the reeds and vanishing from camp.

“Where is he going?” She asked Midgewing, who shrugged and turned back towards his den, tail lashing. Mossystar followed him in a stomp. “Oh, don’t pull that. We’re not done.”

Midgewing sighed. “Aren’t we ever.”

“Don’t play indifferent with me again!” Mossystar snapped. Tears brimmed her eyes when they were alone in his den, backing her Clan. “Tell me the truth. Did you let her die?”

Midgewing stared at her, stunned, before he collected himself. 

“I did my best to save her,” Midgewing replied simply, curling his tail over his paws as he sat. “That’s all my job requires me to do.”

“Was it your best?” Mossystar accused. “Or did you really just stop giving her medication?”

“I never said that.”

“But it’s true!” Mossystar yowled. The den fell silent, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Isn’t it?” 

Midgewing took in a deep breath. “The herbs weren’t working anymore. She was in pain, Mossystar. It was the noblest thing I could do without making her live in extreme pain.”

“She had children,” Mossystar said, voice thick with emotion. “Was six moons really the best you could do?”

“Six moons more than she was expected to live? No, Mossystar, it was better than what anyone could do,” Midgewing spat. “Was a war with ThunderClan the best _you_ could do? A war that killed my brother?”

“He died for his Clan!” Mossystar hissed. “He jumped into battle and demonstrated his courage. We will never forget that. This? This was senseless.”

“I didn’t ask her to get sick!” Midgewing snapped. “I gave her six moons of my time, my dedication, and my attention to keep her somewhat alive, for you! Same with the kits. I prioritized her, Mossystar!  _ I loved her! _ ”

The den fell silent again at his words and rang with their echo. Midgewing took a couple breaths to regroup himself. 

“She became like a sister to me. We were both mourning Rookwhisker and... losing her… was like losing family. It was the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.”

Mossystar paused, and was quiet for a long time.

“Is that why you aren’t at the vigil?” She whispered, not looking at him. “Because you feel–”

“Guilty? Terrible? Yeah,” Midgewing said in exasperation. “Great StarClan, I’m not some emotionless freak like you think I am. I just think and do things within the realm of realism. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t get to me.”

“You don’t have to pretend.”

“We all go through grief differently,” Midgewing pointed out. “I just prefer mine to be here.”

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” Mossystar whispered, staring ahead towards her sister’s body. She sat next to Midgewing at the entrance of the den in silence, shoulders brushing, and waited for the sun to set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cool beans. Midge and mossy are getting some development but as the story progresses/newt gets older they will be involved less lol, it’s just easier to understand what’s happening in their POV i think

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for all the dialogue! Hopefully it will pick up soon. I'm sure they we all hate Midgewing but be sure to keep an open mind... i try to write a lot of my stories without one clear character at fault for the events that transpire. don't get me wrong he's an absolute ass but he's not the only one in the wrong throughout the duration of the story  
> hopefully too, next chapter, there will be more of a writing style and less of the mess that was this one LOL  
> You can check out some of the character designs @omegastar on tumblr.


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